The Path To Redemption
by giggsgal11
Summary: Regulus' plight for redemption. The only cause for hope is through redemption. The only hope for redemption is through courage. The only path to courage is through an acceptance of death.


**The Path to Redemption**

The only cause for hope is through redemption.  
The only hope for redemption is through courage.  
The only path to courage is through an acceptance of death.

**Chapter 1**

Regulus quickened his pace as he wandered through the outer streets of muggle London, his brown trench coat soaked in the autumn rain. The steady torrent ran down his spine, refreshing his thoughts in his current hour of need. His head bent forward, he looked upon his moonlit reflection in the puddles and glimpsed the face of a dishevelled, shamed man. The only hope for redemption now left for him, lay down a dead end road. A road masked in darkness and fear, with little hope, if any, for the future.

His mind flashed back to a memory far suspressed. The haze cleared blearily in his mind as the scene unfolded before him.

--

The fifteen-year-old Regulus sat smugly on the outside stair of number 12 Grimmauld Place as his father stood beside him, arm raised pointing accusingly at a down-trodden teenager.  
"How DARE you leave this house? How dare you!" Orion spat, shaking his finger accusingly at his son.  
Sirius turned his back on his father and swung his large rucksack onto his right shoulder and shoved his wand into his baggy blue jeans. He opened the rickety gate and listened to the melancholy squeak he'd grown so fond of. He paused briefly and turned back to his father.  
"If you leave now, don't ever bother coming back," Orion snarled, a flicker of sorrow hinting in his eyes. He glimpsed behind him at his wife in the open doorway, her face a torrent of tears. But this had to be done.

Sirius turned and looked a last time at his childhood house as one would.

He stared at his mother, "I'll always be a Black," he said in an attempt to console his mother's tears, even if he didn't mean it.

He knew that the family name was important to her, even though it was carried through her husband, but she'd always been obsessive about blood status.

Unexpectedly, Walburga lifted her head and a smile spread across her face. Through gritted teeth she locked eyes with her first born and said, enunciating every syllable with pure venom,  
"You will _never_ be a Black."

--

Instinctively his left hand sank into his trouser pocket, feeling safe in the knowledge that his wand was there. He felt his heart rate quicken as the reality of what he was to undertake hit him but he felt certain in his actions, not doubting that they were right. If he did this tonight, as he intended, he had to say goodbye to her.

A half-hour later, Regulus wrenched open the door of building C on the Fenchley estate and entered the grotty hallway. Cigarette butts lay discarded on the floor, sodden in stinking beer seeping from the haphazardly thrown bottles littering the edge of the damp stairwell. Without thinking and out of pure habit, he began the climb to the 7th floor, his feet slopping on the stone stairs as the water continued to drain off his coat. He reached the 7th floor and looked around him, in search of any person. It was deserted, as usual. He struggled down the long corridor, his mind racing as he breathed deeply. The stagnant air hit his lungs and brought him careering back to the present. He paused briefly in front of her door, and settled himself, fixing a mask of harmonious joy on his face. He knocked loudly, pulled himself up straight, and waited.

"Regulus!" she exclaimed as her hazel eyes fell upon the dishevelled figure in front of her. She pulled him close to her and wrapped him in a warm embrace.

"My Gem," he whispered fondly, caressing her auburn locks as he returned her hug. He nuzzled his nose into her neck and inhaled the sweet scent of innocence, whilst lightly kissing her nape.

"It's been too long," she solemnly stated. Moving her neck away from his loving caress, she placed both her hands on his cheeks gently, directioning his grey gaze into her own. She could tell by the state of his appearance that it hadn't been an easy few weeks since they last met. His hair was longer and shabbier, falling loose around his shoulders dripping wet. She stroked her hand down the side of his face and whispered soulfully again, "too long".

"I know. I know…" he tailed, allowing her to gently press her lips to his, before he entered the flat and firmly closed the door behind him.


End file.
